


Hey Jude

by ElanorRigbyWrites



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-09
Updated: 2015-04-18
Packaged: 2018-03-22 01:37:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3709999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElanorRigbyWrites/pseuds/ElanorRigbyWrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blaine goes to pick his son up from school, but someone else has already got him. Someone claiming to be Jude's father.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this a first chapter after coming back from a long time not writing, so please be kind and let me know what you think. 
> 
> Please, if you like the story, don't be put off by the character death, I promise they will be around throughout and it's really important to the story. 
> 
> xx

‘Jude, please put that down. Now.’ 

Blaine had put on his serious voice. It was a voice that came out only very occasionally. More often that not it was his husband that played the bad cop, pulled out The Stare, and convinced Jude to stop wreaking havoc, but Kurt was away on business so the job fell to Blaine. And although he had been on the receiving end of Kurt’s Stare a fair few times himself, he had yet to perfect the skill, his was much less potent. 

Unfortunately Jude’s terrible twos had extended into his threes. Ninety percent of the time the boy was an angel. He would sit quietly and colour, clutching a crayon in his tight little hand. Sometimes Blaine would lie next to him during his afternoon nap and just breath in the scent of strawberries, or whatever fruit was currently in season and served for his snack, and melted wax from his favorite blue crayon; it never failed to fill him with a little balloon of happiness. 

However when Jude had a tantrum, or maybe it was a windy day and he just   
didn’t feel like behaving, he was a monster. Blaine can call him that, it’s his child and it’s the truth. Jude liked to throw things. Last time they had visited Kurt’s parent’s Jude had left a spanner-sized hole in the drywall of the living room. Blaine hadn’t been so embarrassed in front of Burt since he had caught them dry humping on the couch after Kurt’s senior prom. 

Today was a tantrum day. Kurt had been away for over a week and wasn’t expected home for another three days. Ordinarily Blaine would feel sorry for his son, the poor kid missed his daddy as much as Blaine missed his husband, but Jude had picked up his ukulele. It was his prized possession, gifted to him by his late grandfather. Harley Reyes had spent many hours entertaining a young Blaine by singing and playing his ukulele, making up silly songs with the small boy. It was one of Blaine’s most cherished memoires as a child, and the main reason he entered the music industry, although now in management. His lolo had given it to him when he received his letter of acceptance to NYU and had passed away before Blaine could finish the year out. So the fact that his son was now holding it above his head meant Blaine had absolutely no sympathy for the boy. 

‘Jude.’

Jude screwed up his face and swayed a little, making the instrument do small circles above his head. 

‘Please.’

‘Why?’ This was a new thing. The three-year-old had developed a sudden desire to challenge authority and it was really throwing out Kurt and Blaine’s parenting style. 

‘Because I said so. I am your father and I am asking you to, please.’ 

‘Alright.’ Jude opened his tiny fists, letting the ukulele crash to the ground behind him.

Blaine saw a flash of red, took a deep breath and turned toward his son. 

‘Jude Harley Burt Anderson-Hummel,’ His voice was calm, suppressing the urge to yell with all his strength. God, being a parent was hard. ‘We do not treat other people’s property like that.’ And with that he picked the boy up and carried him to his room, knowing there was no way he would walk there himself if asked. 

Blaine put Jude down on the bed and knelt down so they were eye to eye. ‘I know you miss Daddy. But I want you to know that you have made Papa disappointed. That ukulele is very special to me and you shouldn’t have treated it like that. Now you’re going to have twenty minutes quiet time and then talk about this more.’ 

*

Blaine had finally put Jude to bed. It had been a long day and he still had several meetings to organize, phone calls to schedule and press packets to organize. What he wanted most was to skype his husband and whine about their son. 

Kurt’s days were never predictable when he was travelling, clients ran late for fittings and ideas would strike him in the middle of the night, he could get lost for hours sketching the world’s next must have dress.   
So Blaine relied on Kurt to call him. He opened up his computer, started up skype and turned the volume way up. Then he poured him self a large glass of wine and settled in with his work.   
An hour later his cell rang. Confused, Blaine looked down at the screen. He wasn’t surprised by the name he saw but it was a little unusual for Kurt to call instead of Skype. 

‘I had to put Jude in a time out today,’ he said by way of answering.

‘Uh, Mr Hummel?’ A strange voice asked.

‘Anderson-Hummel,’ Blaine replied without thinking. Kurt had public kept his name Hummel, and being the famous one of the two, people often assumed that was Blaine’s surname too. 

‘Okay. But you are Kurt Hummel’s husband, yes?’

‘Yes.’

‘I’m very sorry, sir.’ The voice was accented, French; Kurt was in France right now. Thoughts chased each other in Blaine’s head. Hundreds of them in that short pause, all centering around why this person was calling him from Kurt’s private phone.

‘Your husband has died. He was in a car accident.’ Blaine never remembered the rest of the evening; his memory picks up around 9am the next day, sitting on a plane next to Jude, on their way to France.


	2. Chapter 2

There were so many things Blaine hated about the anniversary of Kurt’s death. All he wanted to do was stay in bed all day and dream about his husband scolding him for being lazy and staying in bed all day. But instead he had client meetings and a six year old who had to go to school, laundry to be done and then there was the public mourning.  
Blaine had always been so proud of Kurt’s achievements. He had made so many beautiful garments and a huge name for himself. He was loved world wide, not just for his work but for his personality. Blaine joked that he shared his husband with the world and they loved him almost as much.  
But now they just served as a reminder to what he had lost. For the past few years his social media had been flooded with sympathies when the date of that car accident in Paris, so Princess Dianna it was almost as though Kurt had organized the whole thing, rolled around. He even received a few bouquets of flowers. While he appreciated that it was simply people caring he just wanted to wallow for those few minutes before he had to get out of bed in the morning and then get on with his day.  
So he rolled out of bed and padded his way to the kitchen to brew himself a coffee. Jude was still asleep. He had always been a good sleeper, something Blaine swore he had inherited from Kurt. The first week after they brought him home from the hospital they thought they were doing something wrong. As Blaine watched his coffee drip through the filter he remembered those first few days. 

*

‘I’m pretty sure babies are supposed to cry all the time.’ 

Kurt stood over Jude’s crib, watching the sleeping infant with the intensity of a brand new parent. Blaine was sitting in the rocker, watching his husband with a smile on his face. 

‘I think we should be happy he’s not.’

‘But what if there is something wrong with him?’

‘Is he breathing?’

Kurt placed his hand just above Jude’s mouth, just to be extra sure, despite the clear rise and fall of his chest. 

‘Yes.’

‘And he seems to be sleeping peacefully?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Then I don’t think we have too much to worry about.’

‘I was just expecting a lot more crying. Everyone seemed to warn us about the crying.’

‘Kurt, come here.’ Blaine leaned back in the rocker and held out his arms. Throwing one last glance at Jude, Kurt went over to sit on his husband’s lap. The chair started to rock with the movement and Blaine wrapped his arms around Kurt, cheek pressed into his shoulder. 

‘I think we should get the sleep when we can. We have no idea how long this is going to last, he could start at any second.’ 

Kurt ducked his head to kiss Blaine on the top of his. ‘Why are you always right?’

‘I’m just that good. Now up you get, leave our little one to sleep in peace.’ 

Kurt stood, with Blaine following him, and paused in the doorway, pulling Blaine in close. 

‘I love you. I’m so glad we’re doing this together.’ 

*

Blaine sighed into his coffee. They were so lucky, Jude often slept through the nights, and he was always an easy baby. Sometimes Blaine thought they used up all their luck in those three years. 

Just as Blaine started making them breakfast, Jude shuffled into the kitchen still wearing his pajamas that were an inch too long. Kurt had always cuffed their pants, both Blaine and Jude, so he had never learnt to do it himself and the poor kid was forced to walk around with too long PJ pants. 

‘Good morning, Papa.’ 

‘Good morning, sleepy. Any requests for breakfast?’ Blaine wasn’t sure if Jude knew what today was. Previously he had been too young, but the boy was starting to become more aware of the world around him. Instead of bringing it up Blaine decided to let Jude take the lead. If he wanted to talk about it, he would worry about it then. 

‘Um.’ Jude climbed onto his usual stood at the breakfast bar. ‘Yogurt?’

‘With peaches?’ Jude had recently fallen in love with tinned peaches, Blaine hated them but that was all part of being a parent. 

‘Yes, please!’ He giggled as Blaine screwed up his face in mock disgust. ‘You’re so silly!’

‘I am not.’ Blaine placed Jude’s breakfast in front of him. ‘Santana is going to pick you up from school today, okay?’

‘Yes!’ Jude smiled, a ring of food already around his mouth. 

‘I don’t want you two getting into trouble.’

‘We’re always in trouble.’

‘That’s because she’s sillier than you are.’

‘I’m not silly, Papa.’ 

Blaine munched on his own toast. ‘Kid, you’re the second silliest person I know.’

‘Rude,’ Jude retorted, rolling his eyes in a way that was so similar to Santana it sent a shiver down Blaine’s spine. 

‘I need to talk to your mother about how she acts around you.’

Jude had always known that Santana was his mother. When the idea of having a baby first came onto their radar she had offered after a few too many wines. Both Kurt and Blaine assumed she wasn’t serious and started to look into a surrogacy agency. When Santana heard that a stranger was going to carry their child she had flipped out. They were both too scared to even broach the topic with anyone else after that.  
They had agreed from the beginning that she would be a part of their lives, that Jude would know who is mother was. But both Kurt and Blaine, and Santana, had agreed that she wasn’t Jude’s parent, she was more of a godmother.  
For the first three years of Jude’s life it was just like that. Santana would mind Jude while the boys went on a date night, she would come over to dinner once a fortnight. But suddenly Blaine found himself a single parent and needed a little extra help.  
Now Santana often picked Jude up from school. She would take him to piano lessons and art classes, even once took him to Lima to meet her abuela. Blaine was so grateful to have her in his life; he honestly couldn’t imagine how he would have survived without her. 

‘Alright kid,’ said Blaine once Jude was finished his breakfast. ‘Let’s get you ready for school.’

*

 

Leaning back in his chair, Blaine popped two aspirin, dry swallowing them even though Kurt always told him not to. The smallest part of his mind, fuelled by grief, bit back bitterly, “It’s not like you’re here to stop me now”.  
He had just finished a meeting with a particularly difficult client, who believed they were much more successful than they actually were and Blaine was about an inch from dumping their ass. Fortunately (or maybe unfortunately depending on how you looked at it) they had stormed out before Blaine had the chance. Closing his eyes for a minute, Blaine waited for the aspirin to take effect before he began to pack up his stuff for the afternoon. If he were really lucky he would make it home before Jude and Santana. He was actually a little grateful his rising star had walked out of their meeting early because he was rarely home to surprise his son.  
It was just as he was about to leave his office that his phone rang. He stood there for a second, debating whether or not to pick it up. In the end he decided that the risk of it being important was too great. Digging his phone out of his pocket, he glanced briefly at the screen before answering. 

‘Jude knows you’re picking him up, Santana.’

‘Kurt picked him up.’

For the second time in his life, Blaine blacked-out during a phone call.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't help but finish chapters on cliff-hangers. I'm sorry!
> 
> Thank you for all the love from the last chapter. I'm going to be updating every 1-2 weeks. 
> 
> Also, if you're interested you can find me on tumblr, its elanorrigbywrites.tumblr 
> 
> xx


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